[b:462cd7a9dd]Prologue[/b:462cd7a9dd]

[i:462cd7a9dd]"This is ridiculous."[/i:462cd7a9dd] Tyler growled, giving another firm tug on the rope. [i:462cd7a9dd]"Not even ridiculous, this is INSANE."[/i:462cd7a9dd]

[i:462cd7a9dd]"Relax, we're almost there."[/i:462cd7a9dd] Gabriel's long strides put him several paces ahead of his Childe, and Tyler gave the rope another vicious yank to catch up.

[i:462cd7a9dd]"Gabriel...it [b:462cd7a9dd]shit[/b:462cd7a9dd] in my Hummer."[/i:462cd7a9dd] he snarled. Another pull of the rope and the goat hastened it's leisurely trot, allowing Tyler to catch up to Gabriel and Tomas. [i:462cd7a9dd]"And why the fuck isn't Tomas walking this thing? He's the ghoul around here."[/i:462cd7a9dd]

[i:462cd7a9dd]"I don't want him to get hair on his suit."[/i:462cd7a9dd] Gabriel replied simply and quickened his step.

Tyler grumbled to himself and matched his Sire's pace. Glancing over his shoulder, the Humvee was little more than a shimmering pinprick in the distance. It sat silent and alone in the dimly lit parking lot of the Cascadia's Central Park.

The thin gravel path banked sharply left and the Humvee was abrubtly obscured by trees, out of sight and out of mind. The young Ventrue returned his attention ahead and his impatience only intensified.

[i:462cd7a9dd]"Gabriel, are you going to tell me why we're at the park? And why we had to bring this...."[/i:462cd7a9dd] he sneered at the goat, [i:462cd7a9dd]"...thing?"[/i:462cd7a9dd]

[i:462cd7a9dd]"I've already told you why we're here. We're paying a visit to a friend."[/i:462cd7a9dd]

[i:462cd7a9dd]"Yeah, but who..."[/i:462cd7a9dd]

[i:462cd7a9dd]"No more questions Tyler."[/i:462cd7a9dd]

Tyler spat into the grass and cast a wayward glance towards Tomas. The brawny ghoul followed his master obediently, eyes falling over the treeline and gently sloping landscape, alert for danger.

As well he should be so far as Tyler was concerned. The ghoul had seriously fucked up in the line of duty recently. As far as he could see, the entire purpose of a ghoul was to further his masters ambitions during the daylight hours. Gabriel had never expressed interest in prostitutes, so far as Tyler knew. So when his 'trusted' ghoul spends his days down at a brothel getting violent with the staff...well it doesn't look good on the resume.

But here he was, right at Gabriel's side. Rewarded with a new suit no less! Ever reliable Tyler had apparently drawn the consolation prize. He yanked the goat's leash bitterly.

Gabriel stopped abrubtly, his face drawn tight. Stepping off the path and towards the treeline he craned his neck, peering into the shadowed underbrush.

[i:462cd7a9dd]"Here we are..."[/i:462cd7a9dd] he murmured, apparently more to himself than his companions. Without another word, the Ventrue disappeared into the woods.

Tyler emitted a long groan and reluctantly followed his Sire into the brush. The moonlight poured through the thick canopy in asymmetrical patterns, spilling across the forest floor like broken glass. From every direction, branches and twigs poked at Tyler as he made his way forward, the goat marching behind and happily chomping at the local fauna.

Moments later they emerged from the trees into a small, secluded glen. Crowned by plantlife, the small grassy glade shimmered with morning dew and seemed unnaturally serene. Tyler and Tomas watched in silence as Gabriel paced the small expanse of land, peering intently at the ground.

At last he stopped roughly in the center and pointed a single ashen finger at a spot in the grass.

[i:462cd7a9dd]"Here, I believe."[/i:462cd7a9dd] he said simply, looking up at his companions.

Tyler and Tomas exchanged looks.

[i:462cd7a9dd]"Here what?"[/i:462cd7a9dd] Tyler asked. Gabriel waved him off.

[i:462cd7a9dd]"Bring the goat up here."[/i:462cd7a9dd]

Tyler did as instructed and brought the goat forward, unsure of what was taking place. Gabriel circled the spot intensly for another moment and then his hand disappeared into the interior of his overcoat. He pulled out a small black switchblade and handed it to Tyler.

[i:462cd7a9dd]"Alright. Slice it's throat."[/i:462cd7a9dd] he said.

Tyler stared at his Sire in disbelief.

[i:462cd7a9dd]"Do what now?"[/i:462cd7a9dd]

[i:462cd7a9dd]"Slice...it's....throat."[/i:462cd7a9dd] Gabriel said, enunciating each syllabul. Tyler pressed the button on the handle and the blade sprung wickedly into the twilight. He placed one hand atop the goat's head and placed the knife to its throat, holding it there for a moment.

He stood and pointed the blade at Tomas, who waited patiently by the treeline.

[i:462cd7a9dd]"Why can't he do this?"[/i:462cd7a9dd] he pleaded.

[i:462cd7a9dd]"Because I don't want him to get blood on his suit."[/i:462cd7a9dd] Gabriel said evenly, [i:462cd7a9dd]"Now cut its throat."[/i:462cd7a9dd]

[i:462cd7a9dd]"I hate this voodoo shit..."[/i:462cd7a9dd]

Tyler dragged the blade the across the goat's throat and felt the skin give way. The animal bayed in terror and writhed in the Cainites grip. He grasped the goat firmly and a moment later the thrashing ceased and the animal collapsed onto the ground, the blood dribbling weakly into the grass.

The animal's eyes rolled wildly in their sockets as it forced out a final series of gasping, belabored breaths. Then it lay motionless and silent.

The young Ventrue looked at the dead goat and then back to his Sire.

[i:462cd7a9dd]"Christ. That was depressing. So what now?"[/i:462cd7a9dd]

[i:462cd7a9dd]"Give it a moment."[/i:462cd7a9dd] Gabriel responded, his crystalline eyes fixated upon the blood-blackened grass in front of him.

Tyler fell silent and waited. In the distance, a heron cried out, it's melodic warble echoing into the night sky. Then there was nothing but the gentle rustle of the leaves.

A sudden [i:462cd7a9dd]snap[/i:462cd7a9dd] resounded in front of Tyler, so close and abrupt that the young Cainite leapt several feet back. A divot had appeared in the ground beneath the goats body. The earth trembled once more and the divot expanded into a foot-wide trench. The center of the trench fell away, the grass and soil disappearing into darkness. The walls grew steeper and the goat's body rolled jerkily towards the opening. The body slipped into the darkness and then there was silence once again.

Tyler peered at Gabriel, but the Elder did not return his gaze. He looked to Tomas and saw the fear welling up in his face.

The earth erupted without warning, showering the evening air with dirt and clumps of soil. A monolith of dirt and soil emerged from the chasm. At first glance, it appeared little more than a mound of rock and soil standing a little taller than a man. Then gradually, pieces of ground and loam fell away, refining the figure little by little.

Slowly, the organic sculpture took shape and became increasingly recognizable as a person. The figure became animate and become actively tearing the clumps of dirt and network of roots from his body. Porter's familiar face peered out from beneath the grime, gaunt and thin. His once powerful frame was withered and skeletal, his skin leathery and darkened by time.

Like a dog coming in from the rain, he shook the remaining dirt off. Tyler noted how quickly the soil fell from his skin...a trick only a Gangrel would need to know.

Gabriel wore a brilliant smile.

[i:462cd7a9dd]"Welcome back Old Man."[/i:462cd7a9dd]

((take it away Frank...

The skeletal husk that was once Porter stood hunched in the twilight, its head ducked below its shoulders as though protecting its skull from some imminent blow. His hair hung in great matted clumps around his face.

[i:8a7b9f2279]"Gabriel,"[/i:8a7b9f2279] his predatory eyes shot towards Tyler, [i:8a7b9f2279]"Pup."[/i:8a7b9f2279]

Tyler nodded his chin at the old Gangrel and shoved his hands into his pockets. Porters shifted curiously towards Tomas, who stood nervously shifting his weight from one foot to another.

[i:8a7b9f2279]"Who's the juicebag?"[/i:8a7b9f2279]

[i:8a7b9f2279]"A welcome home dinner."[/i:8a7b9f2279] the elder Ventrue said evenly.

A ragged, yellow smile erupted across the corpse-like face, straining the parchment-like skin and sending a spiderweb of fissures crackling across his dry skull. Tomas blanched and took a tentative step backwards.

[i:8a7b9f2279]"Just be careful with the suit. It's a gift as well."[/i:8a7b9f2279]

Porter cocked his head slightly, in a manner remniscent of some rotten old bird-of-prey. Gabriel didn't wait for his question.

[i:8a7b9f2279]"We have a meeting. That's why I wrenched your carcass out of the ground."[/i:8a7b9f2279] he waved a dismissive white hand, [i:8a7b9f2279]"I'll explain on the way. But first go ahead and eat. Meet Tyler and I in the parking lot when you're ready."[/i:8a7b9f2279]

Tomas had already darted back into the woods at a marvelous clip.

[i:8a7b9f2279]"Go on Ports."[/i:8a7b9f2279] Tyler said, crouching now and washing his bloodied hand in the dewey grass, [i:8a7b9f2279]"Don't let him fuck up that suit."[/i:8a7b9f2279]

Porter chuckled a dry hack that caused a small plume of dust to erupt from his mouth. Without another word he shot into the forest, leaving only a vague odor of earth and death behind him.

The Childe and Sire exchanged amused looks and stepped off the knoll towards the woods and the trail beyond.

[i:8a7b9f2279]"I hope he's the right tool for the job Gabriel."[/i:8a7b9f2279]

[i:8a7b9f2279]"Old dogs like Porter can be much more resourceful than you may think. But like all Gangrel, you just have to know which direction to point them."[/i:8a7b9f2279]

Twenty-three minutes later found the Humvee gliding down the length of Route 40, a stretch of road that circled the city and would eventually deposit them in the heart of downtown Cascadia. From his place in the backseat, Gabriel was ruefully watching a revitalized Porter strain at the confines of his newly acquired suit. Freshly fed, the old Scot looked himself again, the broad contours of his face giving him an aire of savage nobility.

The Gangrel brissled beneath his fabric confines, but did not outwardly protest, instead content to peer out the window at the darkened Cascadian skyline. Gabriel followed his gaze and wondered what memories were at present coursing through the old dog's mind.

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"How long has it been?"[/i:7b0dfbcc72] Porter's voice has regained it's rich, baritone note and innate quality to command attention.

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"I would say you've been gone for some three years now."[/i:7b0dfbcc72] Gabriel responded, wondering what hidden reason had so unceremoniously sent his closest friend underground in the first place.

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"Any of the old guard come back?"[/i:7b0dfbcc72] the Gangrel's eyes caught the yellowed hues of the streetlights and seemed to hold them.

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"Whispers of them here and there. To my knowledge, Julius and Eveshka are still in France. A few fresh-off-the-boat Licks have mentioned seeing Sorenti roaming about in Europe..."[/i:7b0dfbcc72]

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"There was a guy in Elysium just the other night who had just spent some time in New Mexico."[/i:7b0dfbcc72] Tyler chimed in from the driver's seat, [i:7b0dfbcc72]"Mentioned some old Gangrel named Mundug. He said he used to be a big name around here. Did either of you know him?"[/i:7b0dfbcc72]

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"Yeah, I knew him."[/i:7b0dfbcc72] Porter said and then fell silent for a moment. He watched the cityscape pass by a moment longer, [i:7b0dfbcc72]"Anyone else?"[/i:7b0dfbcc72]

Gabriel thought for a moment.

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"Well, the rodents downtown are still as big as pitbulls."[/i:7b0dfbcc72]

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"So Drain is still creeping around the shitworks then."[/i:7b0dfbcc72] a smile flickered across the old man's lips for a moment and then he was lost in contemplation once more.

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"Supposedly so. I think Bats is still in town as well."[/i:7b0dfbcc72] Gabriel checked his watch, [i:7b0dfbcc72]"But if you're hoping to walk into Elysium and find a family reunion I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. The new hierarchy brought with it no small amount of new blood. Cainites of a particularly parasitic nature so far as I can tell. Not a single trustworthy soul in the lot."[/i:7b0dfbcc72]

Porter merely issued a curt grunt as confirmation and continued to stare out the window.

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"So all the familiars are MIA or piles of ash but you're still here?"[/i:7b0dfbcc72] in the passenger's side view mirror, the Gangrel's eyes fell squarely on Gabriel, [i:7b0dfbcc72]"Do you mind if I ask why?"[/i:7b0dfbcc72]

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"Familiarity I suppose."[/i:7b0dfbcc72] he considered the question a moment longer, [i:7b0dfbcc72]"In a way things worked out to my advantage. A city is only as good as it's Prince. And with Valek in charge, this place was the Wild West. It wasn't good for business or my personal prospects. The Camarilla coming in and installing puppets may have been an insult, but the streets are safe. Crime is down, tourism is up, the ports are doing business again..."[/i:7b0dfbcc72]

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"It's enough to give a Ventrue wood."[/i:7b0dfbcc72] Porter finished his thought while Tyler spat out a poorly-contained chuckle.

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"Well in any case,"[/i:7b0dfbcc72] Gabriel pressed on, [i:7b0dfbcc72]"the new hierarchy seems to only be interested in keeping things nice and quiet. At least until Lucinde's babysitters leave."[/i:7b0dfbcc72]

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"Babysitters?"[/i:7b0dfbcc72]

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"Lucinde left an archon in town to make sure things don't regress back into..."[/i:7b0dfbcc72] he peered at the skyline once more, [i:7b0dfbcc72]"...well, into what they were."[/i:7b0dfbcc72]

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"Doesn't sound like the Justicar is too confident in her choices..."[/i:7b0dfbcc72]

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"Do you trust anyone who doesn't owe you something?"[/i:7b0dfbcc72]

Porter didn't respond but simply stared ahead.

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"Anyway, the archon is pretty low key and like I said, peaceful is good for business."[/i:7b0dfbcc72]

The Humvee slowed and descended onto an offramp leading into downtown. Soon they found themselves navigating down the darkened streets of the financial district with it's cavalcade of empty office buildings lining either side of the street.

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"So who are we meeting?"[/i:7b0dfbcc72] Porter asked. His discomfort wasn't visibly apparent, but Gabriel had noticed the reaction that confinement elicited in the old Gangrel. He exuded a stifled claustrophobia in the city that to an old friend like Gabriel, was quite palpable.

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"The new Toreador primogen, Natalia Lafourche. An old friend of Kay's who is need of some discreet assistance."[/i:7b0dfbcc72]

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"What kind of assistance?"[/i:7b0dfbcc72]

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"Well she recommended muscle."[/i:7b0dfbcc72] Tyler said, smiling as he guided the Humvee out of the financial zone and into the fashionable brownstones of the arthouse district, [i:7b0dfbcc72]"So hopefully it's the type of assistance that involves fucking someone's world up."[/i:7b0dfbcc72]

Porter raised a suspicious eyebrow and peered at Gabriel's darkened figure, who remained seemingly untouched by the light given off by the streetlamps.

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"And you're handling this personally? Why?"[/i:7b0dfbcc72]

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"We'll call it my foray back into city politics."[/i:7b0dfbcc72] Gabriel's smile was visible even in the absence of light.

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"We've been pretty business oriented the past few years."[/i:7b0dfbcc72] Tyler offered. He furrowed his brow in a mock expression of seriousness, [i:7b0dfbcc72]"We've left the infernal machinations of the Jyhad behind..."[/i:7b0dfbcc72]

As the vehicle came to rest in front of an expansive three level townhome located at the heart of the city's latest re-gentrification project, Porter turned in his seat and met the Ventrue Elders gaze.

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"Gabe,"[/i:7b0dfbcc72] Gabriel ruffled at the unsolicited abbreviating of his name, [i:7b0dfbcc72]"we're friends. But why am I here? As far as I'm concerned the Camarilla and everyone other Lick on Earth can take a sunbath. Why would I want to help some snooty Toreador cunt with her problems?"[/i:7b0dfbcc72]

The Ventrue's ashen face became whiter still and then adopted a firm resolve, the emerald eyes staring intently at Porter.

[i:7b0dfbcc72]"Because she has your pack."[/i:7b0dfbcc72]

By the fourth lap around the block, the pair of Ventrue had managed to extinguish Porter's primal fury to a smoldering hatred. The inside of the Hummer however, was likely unsalvageable. A shattered passenger side window and erratic claw marks raked the interior. Tyler eased the vehicle back into its original parking lot, where the Gangrel sat staring contemptuously at the townhome.

[i:2c7776c920]"How did some Toreador twat get her hands on my pack? I left them under your protection..."[/i:2c7776c920] the barbed resentment in his tone did not go unnoticed by Gabriel.

[i:2c7776c920]"Unfortunately it was out of my control."[/i:2c7776c920] Gabriel responded, his own voice laced with compassion and using enough blood magic to put a mortal into a coma. [i:2c7776c920]"The land I kept your pack on was reclaimed by the Council of Primogen and returned to the Garou as part of a peace offering pact. I tried to locate your pack mates, but with you underground I had no way of tracing them or collecting them."[/i:2c7776c920]

He leaned over what was left of the Hummer's center console now, so that he was roughly level with Tyler and Porter. The old man's anger was palpable to the Ventrue, like standing too near a hot stove. Gabriel pointed an accusatory finger at the aging brownstone.

[i:2c7776c920]"Lafourche showed up roughly two years ago. Even before she hit town she had her fingers in a million different pies, including the Department of Sciences over at the university. The Zoology Program there captured your pack last month in part of a larger effort to tag and track the local wolves."[/i:2c7776c920] he shrugged in a sign of resigned defeat, [i:2c7776c920]"I guess when she found out they were ghouled and no one was claiming ownership, she took them in. Played her card a few nights later in Elsyium. I tried to explain, but she didn't bite. Then two nights ago she shows up at Elsyium and tells me she may have an arrangement beneficial to all parties involved. Tells me to gather some muscle and meet her tonight."[/i:2c7776c920]

The muscles in Porters jaw twitched and shivered in the darkness. His eyes burned beneath his brow, intense yellow pindrops that shifted now between Gabriel and the house.

[i:2c7776c920]"So she's the Toreador Primogen. What else do you know about her?"[/i:2c7776c920]

Gabriel released an elongated sigh and retook his seat in the back.

[i:2c7776c920]"Not a great deal. Like I said, she showed up roughly a year ago and made some pretty quick inroads with the local Torries."[/i:2c7776c920]

[i:2c7776c920]"She's apparently some sort of street artist. High minded."[/i:2c7776c920] Tyler interjected.

[i:2c7776c920]"And she's a friend of Kathy's?"[/i:2c7776c920] Porter growled.

[i:2c7776c920]"Well, friend might be overstating it. They worked together towards some similiar goals in Cairo some years back. Apparently Lafourche is as resourceful as they come."[/i:2c7776c920]

The cabin of the Humvee fell silent, only the droan of the distant highway audible in the evening air. All three figures sat gazing at the building, with it's ivy covered exterior and lit windows. Finally, Porter spoke.

[i:2c7776c920]"Fine. Lets see what she wants."[/i:2c7776c920]

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The slouched nitwit that answered the door didn't strike any of them as the sort who was too sharp on a good day. And the track marks that ran along the interior of his arms suggested that he didn't have too many of those. He stared, bleary eyed, at the visitors.

Gabriel's eyes drifted over the address plate displayed on the home's exterior. This was the place.

[i:2c7776c920]"We have an appointment with Ms. Lafourche."[/i:2c7776c920]

The dribbling boob stared blankly at them for a moment and then ran a hand through his stringy hair. A look that only vaguely resembled recognition crossed his doltish face.

[i:2c7776c920]"Oooh...yeah yeah. You must be the suit!"[/i:2c7776c920] he stood aside and ushered the trio inside.

What had appeared to be a simple residence from the street, was in fact more of an art studio than anything else. The entranceway expanded into a massive greatroom complete with vaulted ceilings. Clearly Lafourche had done some interior decorating, as the room was far more expansive than any living room would be in a home this large.

Even the formidable space was being challenged however, as every conceivable space bore some piece of artwork. The curator apparently had little use for preference in medium. Paintings in the style of the Old Masters shared the wall space with the incoherent scribblings of the modern art scene. The rebellious and cynical strokes of the graffiti artist sat directly across from a series of still life scenes in oil paints. Classical sculptures, surreal ironwork, and seemingly schizophrenic sketches were crammed, hung, and displayed anywhere the trios eyes may fall.

Throughout the room sporadic, minimalist furniture was placed in no discernable pattern. Their junkie doorman took several effort-filled steps towards one of the couches nearby and fell limply upon it.

Gabriel, Tyler and Porter exchanged unsure glances.

The dullard glanced up a moment later and once more that sad, pitiable fire of realization lit in his face once more.

[i:2c7776c920]"Oh yeah. HEY NAT!"[/i:2c7776c920] he shouted. And with that final burst of effort, he collapsed into a chemically induced euphoria.

After a brief moment of silence, a door on the backwall swung open. The wall itself was so crowded with frames of various sizes and colors that Gabriel had not even noticed that it had a door! "Nat" emerged from the doorway and walked towards the three Kindred wearing a wide smile.

Gabriel was slightly taken aback at her appearance. She certainly struck a different figure here in haven than she did in Elysium. Gone was the chic three-piece suits that she had so frequently worn (presumably as a gesture of ridicule to some of the older MALE Cainites). Those suits and the curves that lay beneath, had been the subject of more than one impassioned discussion in Elysium. It had been replaced with a simple painters smock worn over torn jeans and an old flannel shirt. Her dark, black hair was pulled into a loose ponytail (with more than a few renegade strands escaping here and there).

Her grey eyes shone with the same brilliant intensity as before though. Gabriel wondered if she had been wearing sunglasses whether or not he would have been capable of recognizing her.

[i:2c7776c920]"Gabriel, thank you for coming."[/i:2c7776c920] her smile seemed to widen and she extended a hand which he took and kissed being mindful of the paint smudges thereon.

She turned towards Tyler, who had been visually molesting her since her entrance.

[i:2c7776c920]"Ah...this must be the enigmatic Tyler. Don Juan of the Night."[/i:2c7776c920] she tittered delightfully and as she did so, radiance and warmth seemed to surround them. Tyler gushed and took her hand, pressing his lips to her skin perhaps longer than was prudent.

Gabriel found himself adopting the same broad smile as Natalia and then felt the old familiar tug of blood magic in the air. Wilfully, he let the smile slip from his face. The only being capable of out-shmoozing a Ventrue was a Toreador.

[i:2c7776c920]"Enough of this."[/i:2c7776c920] Porter barked, pushing past Tyler to tower over Natalia's meager figure. [i:2c7776c920]"Where's me pack?"[/i:2c7776c920]

The Toreador feigned shock and cast a look of faux-concern towards Gabriel. Finally she returned her steel-colored eyes up at the Gangrel.

[i:2c7776c920]"So this is the infamous Gangrel Porter."[/i:2c7776c920] her voice a near whisper. [i:2c7776c920]"Stunning. Simply stunning. A perfect portrait of the savage noble. A living, breathing manifestation of the ideals that the Gangrel embody. You know they still talk about you? Gabriel, I'm sure you're aware that the Prince and Council have taken some very stringent steps towards enforcing the Traditions in Cascadia, but we still have no small number of Caitiff and Thin-Bloods running the streets. Porter, if you ever wanted to take up your old mantle as Sheriff, I'm sure the Prince would be more than receptive to the id..."[/i:2c7776c920]

[i:2c7776c920]"Where's me PACK?![/i:2c7776c920] the outburst caused even Gabriel to flinch. The stewpot on the couch stirred and then opened a wary eye.

Natalia regarded Porter a moment longer and then the familiar smile returned.

[i:2c7776c920]"Of course."[/i:2c7776c920] she placed a dainty hand on Porter's forearm and Gabriel watched as his muscles discernibly tightened beneath the suit. The clay-brained lout on the couch remissed into his haze once more. [i:2c7776c920]"My apologies Porter. Sometimes it's hard to leave my work at the office, where it belongs."[/i:2c7776c920]

The air took on that amiable warmth once more as she motioned towards the door on the backwall.

[i:2c7776c920]"Lets talk business."[/i:2c7776c920]

When the group emerged into the muted lights of the townhome's backroom, they found themselves once more taken aback by the breadth of the room. Whereas the front parlor resembled a hyperactive, attention-deficient art gallery, the back room was the land of misfit toys. Rows upon endless rows of shelves containing abandoned or unworthy projects stretched into the darkness. Stacks of paintings, bundles of rolled parchment, cans of sculptors clay, ancient rusting blow torches sat untouched amidst the seemingly methodless mass.

Situated directly in front of the shelves was a simple workstation comprised of a studio chair and a drafting desk, the entire arrangement bathed in the soft flourescent of a studio light. As the group approached the desk, Natalia motioned towards the end of one of the rows of shelves where a set of wooden chairs sat neatly stacked. Tyler pulled three chairs from the lot and carried them awkwardly towards the drafting table, where he set them in a neat semi-circle.

The Toreador Primogen took her place upon the studio chair while the of Ventrue sat rigidly across from her. Porter's chair remained conspicuously empty, his monolithic frame hovering just out of reach of the halo of light.

[i:18514aec89]"Porter, I can assure that your packmates have been very well treated."[/i:18514aec89] the petite artist appeared completely unaffected by the Gangrel's seething tempermant, [i:18514aec89]"And returning them to you safely will be no problem at all. However, you must understand that they came into my possession by happenstance. That's the simple truth. It will cost me resources to return them to you. These are resources I'm willing to spend, but I must be repaid somehow. That's only fair, isn't it? All I ask is for you and your friends to perform a simple task for me."[/i:18514aec89]

[i:18514aec89]"How about I pull your skin apart in strips until you resemble that shit you call modern art?"[/i:18514aec89] Porter growled.

It had been some time since Gabriel had heard such anger in the old man's voice. It made him uneasy.

[i:18514aec89]"Well that's certainly an option. However, I don't think it's the best course of action as far as your pack is concerned."[/i:18514aec89] she peered through the shadows directly at the old Gangrel, [i:18514aec89]"Any damage to me or my property would result in some pretty heavy consequences for you. We're talking directly from the city hierarchy. And while you may escape to the ground, your pack would certainly suffer a far worse fate."[/i:18514aec89]

He stalked in the gloom, punctuating each heavy footfall with a hateful blast of breath.

[i:18514aec89]"But Porter, that's not what I want. I have no interest in harming your pack. Why should I? I simply have a problem that you may be able to help with. And then you'll get your pack back and we can both be happy."[/i:18514aec89]

The pacing abrubtly ceased, and even without looking, Gabriel could sense the Gangrel peering intently at Natalia.

[i:18514aec89]"What's the deal?"[/i:18514aec89] came the gutteral growl.

The Toreador clapped her hands in jubilation and a porcelain smile erupted onto her face. She looked excitedly between the trio as she spoke in rapid, frenetic bursts.

[i:18514aec89]"Have any of you ever heard of a town called Bayou Ruse?"[/i:18514aec89]

A flicker of recollection appeared in Tylers eye.

[i:18514aec89]"I think so. About two hours down the 305, right? Little pissant town I think...not much more than farmland and a whorehouse."[/i:18514aec89]

Gabriel raised a curious eyebrow, to which Tyler shrugged sheepishly.

[i:18514aec89]"Pissant or not, the town has recently become a point of interest for the Prince and the Council."[/i:18514aec89] Natalia said.

[i:18514aec89]"I suppose it would be asking too much to know why?"[/i:18514aec89] Gabriel said flatly, more of a statement than a question.

Natalia merely smiled.

[i:18514aec89]"That would be the concern of the Prince and the Council. For our purposes, it suffices that it is a point of strategic interest."[/i:18514aec89] she rested her elbows on her knees, as though about to reveal a grave secret. [i:18514aec89]"The town is small, less than 2000 people. But there's a surprising number of Kindred there. Mostly a collection of unaligned Brujah and Ravnos that pose as a biker gang. Call themselves 'The Black Mambas'. They've been a presence in Bayou Ruse for years, so there's no taking the town without their cooperation. Luckily, they've recently expressed some interest in working with the Camarilla."[/i:18514aec89]

[i:18514aec89]"So they're in trouble."[/i:18514aec89] said Porter. The Toreador Primogen smiled anew.

[i:18514aec89]"You could say that. Apparently, they've been experiencing increased raiding activity from some local Sabbat Warpacks, as well as going through some tenuous relations with the local Lupines."[/i:18514aec89] she smiled ruefully, [i:18514aec89]"Apparently there's a bit of confusion regarding the old land boundaries."[/i:18514aec89]

Tyler scoffed incredulously.

[i:18514aec89]"So...you want to send the three of us to deal with roving packs of Shovelheads and horde of pissed off Garou?"[/i:18514aec89] he sat back, crossed his arms and shook his head in disbelief, [i:18514aec89]"FUCK. THAT."[/i:18514aec89]

Now it was Natalia's turn to offer a clipped chuckle.

[i:18514aec89]"Of course not Tyler. As I said before, they've only expressed interest in joining us. We're certainly not going to risk outwardly angering the Sabbat or Garou for such a pittance."[/i:18514aec89] her cool grey eyes narrowed, [i:18514aec89]"But we can certainly make a gesture of good faith. A small sign of the benefits the Camarilla has to offer..."[/i:18514aec89]

[i:18514aec89]"Fuck me, you Toreadors are long winded."[/i:18514aec89] Porter grumbled.

[i:18514aec89]"That's where I need your help."[/i:18514aec89] she pressed on, ignoring his comment, [i:18514aec89]"We want to get a shipment of weapons down to them. Something to help them even the odds a bit. Now we can supply the weapons, but we need a mode of transport that's reliable enough to carry such sensitive cargo."[/i:18514aec89]

Her eyes fell on Gabriel and he instantly took her meaning. He nodded his compliance.

[i:18514aec89]"My company has trucks outfitted to carry discreet freight."[/i:18514aec89] he nodded curtly to Tyler, who had already pulled out his smartphone and was tapping away furiously, [i:18514aec89]"When does this need to go out?"[/i:18514aec89]

[i:18514aec89]"They're expecting the shipment tomorrow evening. Thank you for your assistance Gabriel. You're doing the city a service."[/i:18514aec89] she turned her attention to Porter, who still stood glowering. [i:18514aec89]"We'll also need someone capable enough to act as an escort."[/i:18514aec89]

[i:18514aec89]"That's it? Escort duty? And then I get my pack returned to me?"[/i:18514aec89]

[i:18514aec89]"That's it."[/i:18514aec89] she chimed in agreement.

[i:18514aec89]"Fine."[/i:18514aec89]

Natalia stood and shook Gabriel's hand, the drying paint leaving dark smudges on his pale skin. She stood smiling, wiping the creases from her smock.

[i:18514aec89]"I can't thank you gentlemen enough for your time and ef..."[/i:18514aec89]

A sharp grunt erupted from the front parlor followed immediately by the sound of boots on tile. Someone let out a shrill cry of pain and then the heavy footsteps approached the backroom.

[i:18514aec89]"Where the FUCK are me guns?[/i:18514aec89]" roared a rough Irish brogue.

[i:18514aec89]"...Naaat....Fitz..."[/i:18514aec89] the human paraquot cried out weakly through what was surely a broken nose.

[i:18514aec89]"Ah yes! Send Mr. Fitzsimmons back!"[/i:18514aec89] Natalie called needlessly. She turned back to the group and addressed them in a sharp whisper, [i:18514aec89]"I forgot to mention, the Black Mambas sent their own...liason...to escort the shipment down. Brennan Fitzsimmons. He's a bit..."[/i:18514aec89]

Just then the bikers massive figure filled the doorframe. Gabriel looked over the great, leatherclad behemoth in amazement. His thick, ruddy facial features still bore the red crimson of an Irishman despite the Embrace. His great bald scalp shone and twitched with every spasm of his facial muscles. He scowled at Natalia.

[i:18514aec89]"Where in the FUCK are me guns?"[/i:18514aec89] he hissed.

[i:18514aec89]"Nice to meet another Irishman."[/i:18514aec89] Gabriel muttered caustically.

[i:18514aec89]"Hey, blondie."[/i:18514aec89] he stomped towards the Ventrue, an accusatory finger held high, [i:18514aec89]"Fuck the Irish and fuck you too."[/i:18514aec89]